The Measure of a Man
by swatkat
Summary: Paedophile, said a little voice inside her head. Unsurprisingly, it sounded a lot like House. ChaseCuddy, oneshot


This was not the story I was supposed to write, but I seem to have written it anyway. facepalm For the **housefic50** prompt **'Lovers'**, 865 words, ChaseCuddy; warnings for general silliness.

**The Measure of a Man**

-

One of the best things about Robert Chase, Cuddy decided, was how very obedient he was.

The way he stuck to his appointed task – that of keeping her up-to-date with House's latest indiscretions, no matter how potentially hazardous it was to him - for instance. The way he doggedly continued to forge House's signatures for him, even after she pointed out that she could, in fact, tell the difference; if anything, his 'g's were getting decidedly less loopy. Or the way he was kneeling before her right now, mouth working steadily between her thighs.

Obedience: she liked that in a man.

'Keep going,' Cuddy said, threading her fingers through his hair. Chase obeyed, dutifully.

No, Cuddy amended. She liked that a _lot_ in a man.

-

What she didn't like so much was the aftermath: Chase, flushing and stammering, scrambling all over the room for his clothes; herself, feeling extremely guilty and asking him to stay.

In a few minutes, he was dead to the world. She, on the other hand, found herself tossing and turning on the bed, quite unable to just _relax_ and sleep.

Chase looked peaceful in his sleep, his hair a halo around his face; Cuddy fought the sudden, inexplicable urge to reach out and touch, smooth back the hair from his forehead.

He also looked about fifteen.

_Paedophile_, said a little voice inside her head. Unsurprisingly, it sounded a lot like House.

-

She was on guard the next morning, careful not to allow any of her concerns show on her countenance. She had a hospital to run, and a House to evade.

House, mercifully, had taken up a new case – twelve-year old boy with mysterious bouts of fever and breathlessness. Which meant he had little time or opportunity to think about other, juicier puzzles, such as the gory details of her personal life. Cuddy never did imagine she would see the day when she was glad at another person's affliction, but there it was.

There was a reason she did not get involved with her colleagues, Cuddy thought as she paused to observe House's patient, just in time to witness Chase smile reassuringly at the boy while he drew blood. Particularly her _much younger_ colleagues. Who also happened to work under House.

Chase patted the boy's head. It would not be happening again, Cuddy told herself.

-

'It's…fluffy. And pink'

'Better for your hands, that way,' Chase reasoned. 'And it's a double-lock. There's no need to worry.'

'I see.'

'It's an amazing experience,' Chase said. 'I can show you.' He grinned at her, then, looking impossibly beautiful and brimming with enthusiasm.

Enthusiasm: she liked that in a man, as well.

'Fine,' Cuddy said.

'I can't believe you haven't done handcuffs before,' Chase said as he drew closer, looking extremely pleased with himself.

Afterwards, he was asleep again and she was wide awake, feeling pleasantly worn-out and vaguely guilty.

_Chase isn't fifteen_, she told the House-voice in her head. _He's a responsible adult, and a very competent doctor. Not to mention the fact that fifteen years olds wouldn't know any of the stuff he's been doing in here._

_Cradle snatcher_, the House-voice told her. She could practically feel the smirk.

-

'What I do in my spare time is none of your business, House.'

'_Who_ you do on the other hand…' he said with a suggestive smirk.

'None of your business, either.'

'It's a doctor, of course,' House pressed on. 'Someone from the hospital, maybe. What is it with you and doctors, anyway? Is it the noblest profession in the world schtick that gets you all hot and bothered, or do you just like living vicariously?'

'Better the noblest profession than the oldest one in the world,' she said, smiling sweetly.

'That's harsh, Cuddy.' He gave her an injured look. And, right on cue: 'That old dominatrix routine is really getting to your head.'

Cuddy resisted the urge to wince. And because any response would only serve to encourage him even further, she said, with a pointed glance at the paper in his hand, 'Is it something of _actual importance_, or do you just like wasting my time?'

He sighed. 'Sign this.'

Which she did, mentally cheering herself for having successfully averted a House-induced crisis. For the time.

-

She had lost most of her cheer by the time Chase came in. He did not actually _say_ anything, but she knew.

'What did House say?'

'He asked me to get this signed by my sugar mommy,' Chase said, handing her yet another authorization form. 'Something about Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher, I wasn't paying attention. Would you like to get dinner tonight? I know a place.'

Cuddy blinked. 'You'll never hear the end of this, you know.'

'He gets tired of it, after a while,' Chase shrugged.

Determination; with an added dose of charm: Cuddy was no sucker, but the combination had an appeal of its own.

She nodded.

'I'll see you at eight, then,' Chase said. Cuddy watched him leave.

_Oh Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me, aren't you?_ said the House-voice in her head.

_Oh shut up_, she told him, and went back to work.

---


End file.
